


Hometown Traditions

by indirectkissesiniceland



Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Engagement, Harvest Moon AU, M/M, farm au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-07 18:16:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12846789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indirectkissesiniceland/pseuds/indirectkissesiniceland
Summary: In which Craig likes it, so he puts a blue feather on it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Our next stop on the "Ikii Invites Herself to Other People's AUs 2017" Tour is @creekily's Farm AU! Harvest Moon holds a very special place in my heart, so of course this precious AU charms me. Many thanks to Charlie for that wholesome, hometown goodness!
> 
> https://creekily.tumblr.com/tagged/farm-au

The bang of the wooden gate crashing open was all the warning Tweek had before Clyde was on top of him.

“Dude!” Clyde’s hands came down on both of his shoulders and Tweek managed a strangled squawk. “What do you know? What aren't you telling your best bro?”

“Whatdoyoumean _ngh_ , what am I not telling you? Idon’tknowanything!”

“Oh, no?” Clyde waggled his eyebrows, his smirk stretching into a toothy grin. Tweek wished he’d worn a hat with a brim instead of just a bandana; he could feel beads of sweat collecting at his hairline. “So, you don’t know anything about Craig’s upgrade?”

All of the breath in Tweek’s body about whooshed out of him at that. “Craig’s…Craig’s upgrade?” Oh, Jesus, he’d found somebody else. Of course he had. Handsome, successful ranchers who bottle-fed sick animals and spent festival prize money on knit hats for baby chicks were in high demand in these parts. Or maybe he was foregoing ranch life altogether and heading back to the Big City, and—

“Dude, Tweek, you okay?” Clyde’s megawatt smile faded, his eyebrows pulling together. It wasn’t until Tweek swallowed heavily that Clyde threw his hands up in front of his face. “Oh, no, man, you’ve got me all wrong! He’s not, you know…Tweek, why would you even worry about that, everybody knows he’s been crazy for you since you first showed up on his doorstep with an old watering can and sweet potato seeds.” Clyde’s smile returned, softer this time, and he put a hand on top of Tweek’s head. Even through his bandana, Tweek could feel all of the warmth in his palm.

“That’s just _you_ who thinks that, Clyde.”

“Nuh-uh. Everybody. Now, let’s try that again.” Clyde brightened when Tweek lowered his watering can to the soft, tilled earth under their feet. “Okay. Your friendly local carpenter comes to your farm in the middle of a workday to tell you about an upgrade your boyfriend is making. Think it through.”

The idea of _Clyde_ telling _him_ to think something through was so ludicrous Tweek snorted, and a smart comment sat on the tip of his tongue when what his friend was saying clicked into place.

“He’s…upgrading his…” Tweek knew it wasn’t the summer sun sending the flush to his face. Embarrassed, he chickened out. “His, um, stable?”

“His _house_ , Tweek, come on! He’s remodeling his way up to the biggest model.” Clyde rubbed his nose, his hand barely covering the knowing smile on his face. “And Bebe told me the last time he was in her store, he kept hovering around the furniture aisle.”

“You’re, mmngh…readingtoomuchintoit!” Tweek dove for his watering can and spun back to his crops. “That second part is all gossip, anyway!”

“Yeah, right, dude. I was _there_ when Jimmy and Timmy brought their monthly wares into town, and we all had to explain to ol’ City Mouse why they were selling blue feathers.”

It had been mortifying, to have Craig hold up a blue feather in front of Tweek’s face and ask why it was so expensive. Then to have to explain that it wasn’t just substituting the country’s feather for the city’s ring, that there were other traditions, steps that had to be taken first.

“We told him how it works here, and now all of a sudden he’s upgrading his house and looking at bigger beds…”

“Clyde, would you—geh! You’re being ridiculous.” Tweek watered his way down the row of crops, knowing full well his friend was one step behind him all the way. “Craig’s worked harder than anybody to bring this village back to the way it was. He’s helped pave roads and ship produce. We have a _hotel_ now—”

“Yeah, which we all know he did to make you happy, dude. I really don’t think Craig’s into the whole One-Man Economy act.”

“Quit saying ‘we’ when you just mean you, Clyde! Ngh!” It was harder to avoid Clyde’s eye when Tweek had to turn around to water up the next row and practically bumped right into him. “If Craig wants a big house, that’s his business.”

“All right, have it your way,” Clyde sang, stepping aside so Tweek could keep working. “But if somebody who’d invited me to the fireworks festival was doing things they knew were local traditions for preparing for marriage…it’d be hard to mind my own business, you know?”

“I’mnotgoingto, geh, lose any sleep over it.”

But in the wee hours of the morning, long after he’d finished his chores in the fields and the rice paddies and the orchard, Tweek was still lying in bed. Staring at his ceiling, wondering if blue feathers felt as soft as they looked and what it would be like to get to hold Craig’s fluffy baby chicks in his arms every day.


	2. Chapter 2

When Jimmy and Timmy’s carriage pulled up to the town gate, Craig was waiting for them.

“You know, we usually like to set up bef-fahh…fahh…before we start selling,” Jimmy said.

“I know.” Craig turned his pockets inside out to showcase the gold he’d set aside specifically for this purchase. “You’ve got something I can’t buy in the general store, and I need it right now.”

“We’ve g-guh-got a lot of things you can't f-find in the general store. But I think I know which item you’re talking ab-buh-bout.”

The gentlest breeze could’ve blown the blue feather out of Craig’s hands. He tucked it into his shirt pocket under his overalls to keep it extra secure.

From there, his morning was a losing game of hide-and-seek with his boyfriend. Tweek wasn’t out in his fields, but when the rain started shortly after Craig passed by, he supposed that was farmer's intuition at work. Next he tried the hotel café, Tweek’s favorite spot in town to relax, and when that proved to be empty, Craig moved on to the carpenter’s shop. Tweek wasn’t there, but Clyde was. Craig wasn’t sure what to make of his vague, singsong answer when asked if he’d seen his boyfriend.

By then, Craig knew he was out of free time for the day. He headed back to his own farm to tend to his cows and sheep. Gallons of milk and clouds of wool made their way into his rucksack, ready to be carried down to the maker shed that had paid for itself within a month. Who knew country folks were so into cheese and yarn?

That morning’s drizzle evolved into true summer rain sometime in the hours Craig had been in the barn. Without an umbrella, Craig dashed to the chicken coop. Just as he rounded the corner of the little building, the sun made a surprise appearance. Well, a sunshine-yellow umbrella, at least.

“Oh!” Tweek startled as Craig skidded to a stop in front of him. He smiled, flashing the little gap between his two front teeth. “Hi, there.”

“Hey.” Craig had a good foot-and-a-half on Tweek, but he hunkered down to fit under his umbrella anyway. His knees, tired from crouching down to milk and shear, ached with protest until a soft kiss on the lips healed all pains.

“It’s raining,” Tweek said dryly. “Think we can go inside?”

“You just want to see my chickens.”

“Maybe.”

Craig held the door open so they could duck into the coop. In the distance, thunder boomed. Tweek closed his umbrella and shook it out in the doorway. The half-dozen chickens Craig had hatched and nursed and raised stampeded past him, cheeping their way to Tweek’s feet. Discarding the umbrella, Tweek dropped to his knees and laughed, picking up a chicken at a time to hug before setting it down gently to reach for the next.

The feather sitting in the pocket over Craig’s heart burned through the fabric.

“Where were you this morning? I was looking all over for you.” Craig squatted down next to Tweek and accepted the second-best love his own chickens showed him. Not that he didn’t understand.

Tweek looked up from nuzzling his nose into fluffy feathers, and Craig thought he saw a flash of caution cross his face. “Oh, I had some errands to run in town. I figured it’d be okay, since the rain’ll water my crops.” He frowned. “Although it’s raining harder than I thought it would, so I might have to head back and set up some tarps…”

“I can help, if you need it. Just got to finish up here in the coop first.” Even though he said it like he was going to get up and work, Craig stayed beside him. Tweek smiled down at the chickens.

“So, why were you looking for me?” Before Craig could answer, he continued. “I guess we haven’t seen each other for a while. The summer heat is the worst…gotta water everything twice, and the hot sun just drains my stamina…oh, I…” Tweek’s fingers threaded up through the tufts of hair puffing out from under his bandana, colorful Band-aids peeking through blond curls. “I, umm, heardyouwere…upgrading your house.”

Clyde. No wonder he’d been such a tool when Craig talked to him, the big, dumb blabbermouth. It was hard to stay annoyed when Tweek’s smile for the chickens turned shy, his eyes lifting at last to meet Craig’s.

“Uh, yep.”

“That’s anawfullot, mm, of house for one person.” Tweek looked away again. “Are you moving the chickens in with you?”

“Not officially, but they’ll probably want in once—” _Once you’re there._ Proposal before presumption, Tucker, get it together. As if on cue, the chickens swarmed Tweek again, all cheeping for his attention. Face smudged with soil, hair frizzing from the rain, Tweek held his hand out, and Craig took it.

Outside, the rain hammering the roof quieted, dulling back to the soft summer showers of that morning. Craig squeezed Tweek’s hand in both of his, marveling as he always did at how soft and warm it was despite how much Tweek worked with his hands outdoors on the farm. Tweek shuffled nearer until their shoulders bumped together. The chickens followed him. In spite of the feathery fight for Tweek’s attention, Craig leaned over his livestock for another kiss.

“Listen, I…” Craig rested his forehead against Tweek’s and tried not to go cross-eyed meeting his huge, bright eyes. “I have something for you.”

“Something for me?” Tweek echoed, his voice barely a breath.

“If you want it.” Craig’s hand reluctantly left Tweek’s to grope in his pocket for the feather, thankfully kept dry under both the sturdy fabric of his shirt and the denim of his overalls.

Tweek’s eyes didn’t so much as flicker down to see what Craig was retrieving, but Craig knew he knew what it was anyway. “I do. Want it. I, ah.”

Took his hand again, deposited the blue feather into it. Tweek’s fingers closed around it as soon as it sat in his palm, fingers slipping through feather fluff, brushing against Craig’s knuckles. They both looked down at it at the same time, heads still bumping together. Outside the rain softened. Inside even the chickens seemed to hold their breath.

“I love you, you know,” Craig mumbled.

“Everybody knows that,” Tweek teased, though his voice was soft as the feather in his hands. “I love you. Everybody knows that, too.”

“I think I got everything,” Craig said. “The family-sized house and the bed and—” Tweek blushed, and Craig knew he was blushing, too. Literally the most embarrassing tradition ever, why would these meek little country folk want to broadcast—anyway. “I want to marry you.”

“I want to marry you.” Tweek waved the blue feather, tickling under Craig’s chin. “Yes. I will marry you.”

The chickens burst into excited cheeping. Craig couldn’t have said it better himself.


End file.
